


Never Have I Ever Had a Fight with My SO

by Azure_K_Mello



Series: After the War [6]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Man (Movies), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Earnest Peter Parker, F/M, Friends are supportive, I have far more drama in fiction than I did in high school, Jessica Jones is not helping, Liz is a fav of mine, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Skip was a bastard, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, mentions of child abuse, second to last in the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 09:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_K_Mello/pseuds/Azure_K_Mello
Summary: Once upon a time, Peter needed superhero friends to get through his super problems. But, two years after retiring, his superhero friends help him with far more pedestrian issues. After his first ever fight with Liz, he still has Tony to lean on for support.





	Never Have I Ever Had a Fight with My SO

**Author's Note:**

> This one is different from the rest of the series as the perspective shifts from Tony’s to Peter’s halfway through. It felt right.

It was a fun for a while. Thor was in and out, asking questions about Midgardian diplomacy. Norway remembered its old gods and welcomed the Asgardians. Thor had about a million loans and gifts helping him build a city with plumbing and electricity. It was more humble than the descriptions of Asgard that Tony had heard and when Tony asked, Thor said, “I learned how my father made Asgard so rich… I am not a cruel man. We will not need opulence to strive.” Tony hadn’t pushed the point. Thor had grown up a lot since Tony had last seen him and he seemed well. 

When he came by he would hang around, reading to Phillip, playing video games with Peter, poking things in the lab. It was good to have him, even in a limited capacity. Tony well-remembered Peter’s words to Thor and Bruce and he thought the alien made a point of spending time with them, proving he wasn’t there just to ask for things. He would ask Tony about his work and ask for stories about the house.

Peter was a junior now and that struck Tony as odd, it showed the passage of time more prominently than just a calendar could. His seventeenth birthday dawned bright and sunny. The day started with a YouTube alert to a new video on Liz’s channel called, “Makeover for Birthday Boy.” Tony was in bed and Phillip hadn’t come and disturbed him yet. So he took the quiet moment for himself. Tony clicked on it and saw Liz and her friend Seymour grinning, “Good morning. Tomorrow is my boyfriend, Mr. P.B. Parker’s birthday. You all might know him from our channel but you probably know him because his channel has way more followers than we do. We will be posting this video tomorrow, so when you’re watching this, it’s my boy’s birthday. So, I asked him what he wanted for his birthday and he said, ‘It’s so silly that the whole day is about me. Let’s celebrate you too. What do you want?’”

“God,” groaned Seymour, “you guys suck so much with your healthy, respectful, loving, happy relationship.”

Liz laughed, “You’re so jealous.”

“So, so jealous,” replied Seymour. “I need him to have a gay brother… and I need to be a more emotionally healthy person within myself.”

Liz laughed again. “So, I asked him if he would do a ‘Let’s Do My Boyfriend’s Makeup’ video. And he said yes. Peter,” she called. 

He opened the door with a ta-da motion. “The star of the video has arrived,” he said as he sat down on Liz’s bed with the others, “Hey, guys, how is it going?”

“Good,” said Seymour, “Y’nervous?” 

“No, not really. I watched some ‘I Do My Boyfriend’s Makeup’ videos and I learned that, predominantly, the guys in them have super fragile masculinity and also mean girlfriend. They’re all like, ‘How am I supposed to go to Chipotle like this, bro?’ And I’m sitting there thinking, ‘By going to Chipotle, bro. Why do you care what people think of your face?’ And then they’re like, ‘People will think I’m gay.’ And again, I’m like, ‘Cool, so maybe a guy hits on you and you say, “Sorry, I’m straight: my girlfriend did my makeup.” And the guy who hit on you will say, “You’re eyebrows are on fleek.” And everyone will move on.’ So, on that note, I’m good. And the girls are usually mean and are like, ‘I’m gonna make you look like a prostitute drag queen.’ But, like, aren’t makeup vlogs supposed to show that anyone can look awesome with some tricks? Why would you purposefully make someone look bad? Like, when you make a guy ugly you make yourself look untalented. So, as you are my friends and Liz loves me, I expect to look good at the end and just be left amazed that you made me look like I have more lips, or whatever. I did have a nightmare about those horrible plier things you put in your eye to bend your eyelashes which are supposed to protect you from getting stuff in your eyes not be bent. The vice freaks me out. And I dreamt that you pulled on it and took all my eyelashes and I bled. So, I’m terrified of that bit.” It made Tony laugh. He liked the man Peter was growing up to be.

“I’ve been curling my eyelashes daily for seven years,” said Seymour, “I’m not going to screw it up.”

“But they’re on your face. How many times have you done them to someone else?” asked Peter.

Seymour rolled his eyes and took what looked like a torture device to Tony out of blue liquid and said, “Remember, kids, always sanitize your tools.”

“Especially if you share,” said Liz as he rinsed and dried it.

“Liz, turn to me,” he said, then he added, “Look up.” She did as told and he clamped the thing on her eyelid.

“Uggg,” said Peter. “It’s like watching a Saw movie.”

Seymour rolled his eyes and detached the device from her face. “See, Pete, I can do this. Breathe out, man. You said it: we’re friends, I’m not ruining your face. Now, sit down in Liz’s desk chair, prop your feet up on the desk to lean back and just relax.”

Liz moved the camera, repositioning it to point at Peter’s face. Peter did as told and Tony watched as they primed his face, used concealer and blush as the process went on he said, “Do you do this every day? This seems like a really long time to be doing this.”

“Gorgeous, it doesn’t take us as long. In part ‘cause your fidgeting and in part because, well,” Liz’s words trailed off.

“Your skin isn’t as good as ours and your pores are giant,” said Seymour.

“Gee, thanks,” said Peter, “I thought you were supposed to make me feel pretty.”

“You’re a handsome guy, Peter. But you’re a straight guy and you don’t take great care of your skin,” he replied, making Tony laughed. Tony had a soft spot for Seymour: he always approached situations with blunt honesty and enthusiasm. 

They talked about the products they were using, why they liked them, why they would work for Peter’s face. Peter breathed through the eyelash thing and Tony felt a lot of respect for him. “Good job, gorgeous,” said Liz.

As she applied lip gloss Peter said, “Is this that pretty pink one you wore last night?”

“No, that one goes with my skin tone, not yours, it’s the same brand. Why did you think that?”

“It tastes the same as when I kissed you.” Then he added, “If it doesn’t go with your skin tone, why did you buy it? Isn’t this stuff expensive, tell me you didn’t get it for me.”

“Peter, we haven’t bought makeup in over a year. We have sixty-one thousand followers. Companies send us stuff hoping we say it’s good,” said Seymour. 

“Okay, ready for your big reveal?”

“I don’t know. Am I ready for my close up, Miss Allan?” 

“So ready,” she said. 

He sat up and looked in the mirror and blinked, “I look good… and well rested and like my eyebrows actually have a plan. My skin looks awesome; I’m, like, glowing. I have really long eyelashes.”

“Have we converted you to makeup?” asked Seymour.

“No, but, I look good. I appreciate what you did.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a ‘Doing My Boyfriend’s Makeup’ vid where the guy said thanks,” said Liz. 

“Well, two of the coolest people I know just made me a part of their passion project. You say thank you for that,” said Peter and Tony thought, for the millionth time, that Peter took natural suaveness to a whole new level. “My cheeks look really sharp though, is heroin chic back in?”

“No, silly, that’s your natural lines just more defined. We brought out your cheekbones,” said Liz. 

“Do I really have such deep cheeks?”

“It’s more that you have a really masculine jawline and then a thin, very fine-boned face,” said Seymour.

“Huh,” said Peter. “I look good.”

“Y’wanna go to Chipotle?” asked Liz.

“No, I don’t like Chipotle and Aunt May is making moules frites for dinner because my party is tomorrow and she wanted to do a birthday dinner. You guys in? We have apple pie for after.”

“Moules frites?” asked Seymour.

“Mussels in a white wine sauce and homemade french fries,” said Peter. 

“I thought May did… simpler foods,” said Seymour.

“It’s okay to admit May isn’t the world’s best cook. She’s fine with you saying it,” said Peter. “But this is her grandma’s recipe; she grew up cooking this. This isn’t a food experiment: this is my favorite meal. Usually, I would make a joke about me being the birthday princess, but with this makeup, I kinda feel like a Disney prince come to life. I look pretty without being girly. You guys did such a great job and you should come join us for dinner. I told May I was doing a video with you and she invited you.”

“Okay, if you like it and don’t want to scrub it off we should use a setting spray,” said Liz.

“What’s that do?”

“It keeps your makeup looking good for hours.”

“Cool,” said Peter. “Go for it.”

“Okay, shut your eyes,” she ordered and then handed the spray to Seymour. She left the room quietly as Seymour talked about the product, spraying it on Peter in gentle spirts. 

“Keep your eyes closed for a moment, let it dry,” Seymour instructed. 

Liz walked in with a cupcake with a lit candle singing Happy Birthday to You. Peter opened his eyes with a smile, “Guy! You got me a cupcake?” He blew out the candle and said, “Thank you.”

“I got you the cupcake,” said Seymour, “Liz went big. I told her not to.”

She took a box from the drawer and Peter said, “Can I open it? Or should I wait until tomorrow?”

“Open it,” she said, “and don’t freak out.”

He opened the box and opened his mouth slightly. He looked at her, looked back at the box and said, “Liz, no. It’s beautiful but you have to return it.”

“Told you,” said Seymour, sounding vindicated. “Told you.”

“You have been saving up for the Alleger Sim program for six months,” said Peter, “I can’t accept this. It’s perfect, I love it, but I can’t take this when you need that software. I really appreciate the thought; it’s amazing. Thank you for the thought, I love it. But you need to return this.” 

She held up a finger to stop his protests and took a letter from the drawer and read, “‘Dear Ms. Allan, upon reading your proposal and your progress in your research thus far, the entire panel was intrigued and excited. The purpose of the September Foundation is to help young scientists create the future. We have no doubt that you will play a role in that future. Congratulations, as of this moment, you are funded. Additionally, please find enclosed a code to download a copy of the Alleger Simulator. We look forward to your success.’”

“Ohmigod,” said Peter. “You got it?”

She grinned and then said, “There’s a handwritten note too. ‘Dear Liz! Yay! Your work on the proper containment and disposal of radioactive materials has the potential to radically change the world. But, there will be weeks that frustrate you, there will be months where you doubt yourself because of a lack of results. Sometimes, you will worry that you don’t deserve our backing. You will be wrong. We all have those moments. I know that, were I in your position, during those dark times I, personally, would worry that my boyfriend’s relationship with Tony Stark was the reason behind my grant. I wanted to dispel that thought from your mind before it occurs. Peter Parker’s work on adhesives did not sway our decision and Mr. Stark does not sit on this panel. Your work merited funding and, without bad months and pitfalls, research cannot yield long-term results. Congratulations on your grant; we’re so excited to be working with you. Sincerely, Betty Ross.’”

“You’re funded, this is awesome!” said Peter, standing to hug her.

“Yeah, so I suddenly had six months of saving and I felt like celebrating so I blew a small portion on your indestructible dream watch.”

“Liz, thank you, it’s even the face I wanted; I didn’t tell you which face I wanted.”

“If I didn’t know what face you wanted after two years of dating, it would be weird.”

He kissed her slowly, pulling back he said, “It feels weird kissing you with lip gloss, double the lip glass really lowers the friction.” She laughed. He slid his arms around her waist. “You can’t buy me an anniversary gift,” he said, “This is too much for a birthday, even with savings. So you can’t get me an anniversary present too, deal?” 

“Okay,” she conceded. 

“And, also, you’re not allowed to be angry at how much I spent on your anniversary gift,” he said, sounding a little sheepish.

She laughed, “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see in two months,” he replied. 

“Okay, stop being cute and cuddling while I’m in the room. We ready to go to your place?” asked Seymour.

“Yeah totally.”

“Usually these videos tape when the guy goes outside,” said Seymour. “But this video is long and it seems unnecessary as you aren’t squirming.”

“Again,” Peter shrugged, “fragile masculinity and purposefully bad makeup. I look great and, as that was longwinded and uncomfortable, we’re never doing it again so I’ll flaunt it while I’ve got it. But this lip gloss is going to last five minutes because it tastes good and it tastes like Liz so it’s Pavlovian to lick it off.”

“Try not to,” said Seymour and then said, “wave to the camera and say ‘bye.’”

“Bye, guys,” said Peter waving at the camera. “Don’t forget to like and subscribe and check out my channel in the link below. I build sculptures with my best friend and then drop them.”

“It’s strangely therapeutic to watch,” said Seymour. 

“Bye,” added Liz and the video ended.

Tony smiled at his tablet, happy that Peter had nice friends. He thought back to two years when Peter had been just shy of fifteen and awkward and strangely sad. He hadn’t been in a good place when they met and Germany had made him worse. Now, he had self-confidence. He lacked the dark circles under his eyes, he laughed more easily and Tony was pleased. 

He went down to the kitchen but then heard Phillip call, “Daddy!” from the top of the stairs. Phillip had mastered going up the stairs on his own but still had problems coming down safely. JARVIS assured him that the internet said it was normal. Tony went to the stairs and smiled, “Hi there, sleepy boy.”

“Comfy,” said Phillip.

“Yeah? Your bed was comfy?” asked Tony, walking up the stairs to his little boy. Phillip nodded and rubbed his face. “Let’s brush your teeth.”

Phillip started to sing the exceptionally irritating and incredibly self-explanatory song, “Brush Your Teeth.” He held Tony’s hand and skipped.

Watching him, Tony said, “You will never understand how much I love you.”

Phillip smiled at him, “I love you too, Daddy. You’re my favorite.”

“You’re my favorite too.”

Tony once thought mornings were fast, he could shower, brush his teeth, fix his goatee, get dressed and drink his coffee in slightly under twenty-five minutes. It took an hour and a half to get Phillip fed and dressed. Phillip didn’t even bathe in the mornings. Tony couldn’t figure out why it took so long except one hint might have been the fact that Phillip liked to sit naked on his potty every morning for twenty minutes even though he was nowhere near ready to potty train. But, Tony didn’t mind sitting on the edge of the bath reading him a book while Phillip attempted to understand what the potty was even for. He just didn’t get bladder control. Sometimes he peed while sitting there and acted like it was an achievement. Tony would high-five him even though Phillip had done nothing consciously.

Tony used to be irritated by other people’s kids. Kids were loud and obnoxious. And if he tried to talk to a parent, even as politely as he could manage, they felt personally attacked and acted like he was the problem. Then he had a kid and finally got it. On a philosophical level, he’s always known that kids were like drunk adults. But he hadn’t realized how much parents liked their kids. It wasn’t just like dealing with a drunk person; he was dealing with his drunk best friend. It was like he was with a constantly drunk Rhodey, sometimes his behavior was irritating but Rhodey’s drunken behavior was way better than someone calling him out on it. So when people said things about getting Phillip under control Tony’s kneejerk reaction was somewhere along the lines of, “Y’gonna insult him? Come at me, bro.” He loved spending time with his seemingly drunken kid. 

After finishing a picture book he said, “Ready for a diaper and clothes?” 

Phillip nodded and then ran to his changing table. The rest of the morning was smooth and easy. He texted Peter to wish him a happy birthday and Peter sent him back a heart emoji.

The party was a set to start after Phillip’s bedtime but Peter came over before to say goodnight to Phillip. Phillip said, “Happy birthday, Peter! I get cake for breakfast!”

“Yeah, you’ll have cake for breakfast tomorrow,” agreed Peter.

“You want Peter to read your bedtime story?” asked Tony. 

“Yup,” said Phillip and put his arms up for Peter to pick him up.

What was meant to be a grownups party — and a quiet affair — went well for about two hours. It was fun and easy with people eating appetizers and drinking mock- and cocktail. It was nice to see how many people turned out to celebrate Peter. His school friends, all the Avengers, the crew from Nelson and Murdock and May was there. But when things went wrong, they went wrong fast. Jessica was drunk because, well, Jessica. She came over and put her arms around his neck resting her forehead against his. She rarely touched people and the shock of the visual caused people near them to go quiet.

Peter was visibly surprised and spoke at a normal level as he said, “Jessica, I’m not sure what’s going on. But, a few things: you’re a happily married woman, I have an awesome girlfriend, both those amazing people are in the room are in the room and I’m not okay with this going any further than a hug. We’ve never touched each other before. So,” He tried to detangle himself but she held fast. Jessica was strong but Peter was stronger. He could have gotten out easily but only eight people in a room with almost forty knew his secret. 

“Okay, but, like, when are you going to admit your Spider-Man? Because it’s a really fucking weird charade when someone tangles with one of your guys and Tony’s all, ‘Let me ask Spidey for tips.’ Like, why do you think we’re idiots; we’re not idiots. You’re the idiot.” 

Peter said, “Jessica, you’re drunk and making giant, absurd leaps.”

“Like, why would Tony even keep you around if you weren’t useful?” She almost shouted it and anyone who hadn’t been paying attention before turned to them.

Peter’s knitted his eyebrows as he said, “Jess.” He looked sad, “That’s a very dark view of the world and an unkind thing to say. You and I are friends because we like making fun of your husband. Tony and I met because we like science; we’re friends because we like each other. It’s not more sinister than that.” Tony didn’t intervene there was still a very thin chance that Peter could talk his way out of it. He caught May’s eye and saw that she was also waiting to see how it would play out.

“Right, and you’re friends with a random blind lawyer from boxing in Hell’s Kitchen and you only hit the scene right around Spider-Man’s trip to Germany,” She drunkenly over-rolled her eyes. And wasn’t that awesome? Because outing Matt as well was going to make things harder.

“You’re a mean drunk, Jessica,” said Peter. “You’re out of line and it’s not true. This isn’t funny. Have some water and some shrimp toast to water the liquor down because you’re a mean drunk.” 

“No, but, like, seriously, everyone fucking knows. It’s, like, funny that you think it’s a secret.” She moved fast; Jessica had a lot of experience being drunk she had a surpassingly good muscle control. She grabbed his wrist and twisted hard. Tony heard it snap and Peter gasped. 

Peter clearly didn’t think about it and just reacted and hit her hard in the chest with his undamaged hand. Jessica flew across the room, knocking several people down. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry,” he repeated. 

“Oh my God,” said Liz slowly.

“Liz,” said Peter and she turned and started to leave. “No, Liz.”

“Peter,” said Jessica attempting to stumble to her feet. He didn’t even look back as he shot her with webbing, gluing her in place, and kept going after Liz. He paused for just a second to snap his wrist and hand back into place. He gasped and winced as he did it and paused for just a second as went to the door.

“You just broke my kid’s wrist and outed him, what is wrong with you,” May started to approach her but Tony caught her. 

Softly, he said, “She’s drunk, irritated and very, very strong, you don’t want to get into this, there will be a time, it’s not when she’s drunk.”

There was still a shocked silence in the room and Tony went to Jessica and said, “Just because something is obvious to you does not mean it’s obvious to everyone.” He took an adamantium pocket knife from his pocket. “Why the hell would you break his wrist? What the hell, Jessica?”

“I thought he was, like, impervious,” she said and had the gall to giggle.

“No he heals fast and he has an almost Catholic level of guilt so he works through the pain but you just snapped a seventeen-year-old’s wrist to the point where his hand was backward on his arm. And he was never here because he was useful, that’s a cruel thing to say. He hasn’t been Spider-Man in two years. He was out of this life, Jessica, it was all in his rearview mirror and you outed his past at his own birthday party.” He cut her free and said, “Luke, get her out of here before May kills her. When she sobers up, tell her she isn’t welcome here until I can fix her mess.” Luke actually threw her over his shoulder as he left, face apologetic. 

Tony raked his hands over his face. It was all about damage control. He looked at the kids. Peter’s friends group had grown exponentially since they had met. Back then he’d only had Ned. Now Tony looked at Ned, MJ, Gwen, Flash, Betty and Seymour. He had never warmed to Flash. He knew it was conventional wisdom that you shouldn’t tell your friends about problems you have with others because even if you forgive the person, your friends won’t. Peter said that Flash had grown and was nice but all Tony could see looking at the now-senior boy was an asshole who called Peter “Penis Parker” and Tony still disliked him. He needed to put it aside. 

Breathing out he said, “Seymour, Betty, obviously you’re going to take Liz’s side in this fight. She’s your friend and I’m sure she’s pissed. You’re on her team, of course you are: she’s got dibs on you. But you have to, have to, have to convince her not to tell her dad or put it on the internet. Her dad is besties with Lizard, Scorpion, Ock and Shocker all of whom want him dead. They don’t care how long ago Peter retired; he sent them all to prison and I know for a fact that they are still trying to find him. If she tells her dad and he tells them, the result will be May’s death. They won’t come after Peter first because they know they can’t win — he’s beaten them all time and again. Peter second only to Hulk in physical strength. Their opening volley will be to kill May. So, if she says she doesn’t care if they kill him, because y’know — betrayal — point out that they won’t kill Peter: they’ll kill May. She and Peter are both going to be upset; they always brag that they’ve never had a fight. This is going to hurt them both. So,” he glanced at them all, “of course you’re going to pick sides but just be nice — if a bit cool — to the opposite side. I hope they get through this please don’t make it worse. Listen to your friend, comfort your friend but don’t make it worse.”

Suddenly there was audible shouting, where they had gone to fight, they were returning, “You knew he was the Vulture and you lied! You’re a lying liar who lied!” 

The front door slammed and Tony nodded, “Yep, there it is. Betty, Seymour: you should go after her. Not how I expected the night to end. Trish, your best friend sucks when she’s drunk.”

“Yeah,” said Trish slowly, “But she’s not just my best friend; she’s my sister. I saw her hitting the punch but I think she also had a flask.”

“Great,” said Tony. Seymour and Betty left and Tony said, “J, where is Peter now?”

“He has gone down to the lab, sir, he sends his regrets and says that you should have the cake and continue the party. He says that he’s fine and people should have fun.”

“Well, that’s a lie,” said Tony. To the grownups, he said, “I don’t need to tell you the importance of keeping his identity private. Peter gets through a lot of calories when he’s healing.” He cut a giant slice of cake and then three regular ones. 

“When I met Spider-Man,” said Nova, “I thought he was so brilliantly organized and incredibly accomplished. I was so concerned about filling his shoes. It took me a year of occasionally bumping into Peter to realize that the accomplished, impressive street hero was a little kid.”

“I think the biggest lie Peter pulled off during those six months he was Spider-Man was that he managed to make it look fun. He looked like he had it together, he quipped, he waved but I think he was breaking the whole time. He loves his superpowers, loves ‘em. I mean, I’ve never met anyone who revels their superpowers more than Peter loves his. But he was miserable as Spider-Man. So I found you and he got out. Not wanting to sign the Accords was just a small part of his retirement, a happy side benefit really. And now, I think, it’s just a bad dream he had once. It was over; he was out. He hangs out with the super friends he made. He still boxes at Matt’s dad’s gym and only fully lets loose on the punching bags when the only person there is the blind guy. He swings around the city. But, Spider-Man is long gone. It was a rough chapter in a closed book and then Jessica got shitfaced.” Looking at Peter’s friends he said, “If you care about him, just drop this subject, just ask him how he and Liz are doing. Don’t push him to talk about Spider-Man. Spider-Man was a hero to Queens but a brutal burden to Peter so just let it be. It’s a wound that had healed into a scar and Jessica stabbed it. Don’t pick at it.” He picked up the plates of cake and said, “May, Matt, come with me. You guys, eat, drink, discuss this shit show, compare notes of when you figured it out or what should have tipped you off.” He started to head out but then remembered an important note, “Deadpool has no idea who Peter is under the mask, Peter has never told him his identity. Let’s make sure that the mercenary Peter has been trying to convert into a hero for years doesn’t learn his name.” 

He led May and Matt to the lab and opened the door, “Hey, Peter, we brought cake,” he said, warmly. 

“Hey,” said Peter, scrubbing away tears one-handed, “I’m okay.”

“Of course you aren’t,” replied Matt. “Also, your wrist is healing wrong.”

“It feels weird,” agreed Peter. Matt went to him and Peter held out the damaged wrist.

“Yeah,” said Matt, taking his hand. “You also screwed up your circulation because you pinched a vein. Take a deep breath: this is gonna hurt.”

“You shouldn’t,” May started to protest but it was too late, Matt had already yanked the bones apart and replaced them correctly.

Peter gasped but said, “It’s okay, May, that’s how we always used to do it. Matt’s fast and he can hear if it’s correct.” He spoke through a shuddery breath.

“Tony, can you give me a compression wrap? Plus a double dose of Advil and a single dose of Tylenol.”

“We should go to the hospital,” said May.

“And how do we explain it when I’m healing as they take the X-ray?” asked Peter. “Matt is great at this, May. My fingers aren’t crooked because of Matt. They’re crooked because of the times I didn’t go to Matt.”

“We can call Dr. Cho,” offered Matt.

“She would just come and say you did the right thing,” Peter pointed out. Tony knew that was true and so did Matt. It was just a move to comfort May. He had tears leaking out of his eyes. “Besides, it’s nicer to pretend the tears are pain related.”

“Pete, it’s okay to be upset. You’ve never had a fight,” said May.

“It wasn’t a fight: she dumped me. We broke up. It’s over. She told me not to call her. She meant it. So, like, when I get into bed tonight, when I would usually text with her, I can’t. And I don’t know how to go to bed without texting her. She’s my first love and I don’t know what to do.”

“She’ll forgive you,” said Tony. 

“I lied to her for two years, Tony. Sound familiar?” asked Peter and there was an edge of meanness that Tony had never heard directed at him before.

“You allowed her to maintain a healthy relationship with her dad by not telling her that he was on the opposite side as you and that you had insider knowledge about his evilness without ever meeting him,” said Tony. “Steve allowed himself to attain a healthy relationship with someone else by not telling me that his ex-boyfriend brutally murdered my parents while mind controlled. You found out before you were dating and kept your mouth shut. He found out two years into a relationship and failed to tell someone he called the love of his life. She found out at a party. I got left for dead on the floor in a foreign country. She left under her own steam with two of her friends on her heels… which, yeah, okay, I got Rhodey and Vis, but still. You didn’t beat the shit out of her and leave her paralyzed to go screw the murder weapon who killed her mom. Do you know how much of my money I spent trying to help Steve find that bastard? While he forced me to essentially stay in the closet with him? You supported her and encouraged her to visit her dad; he gave lip service to having a baby. These situations, while superficially similar, are very different. So you didn’t tell her about the worst seven months of your life, so you didn’t tell her about her dad because it would break her heart. You loved and supported her,” said Tony. “This isn’t over yet. Give her time to cool off. Give Seymour and Betty time to talk and listen. Don’t call, don’t text, give her space. Let her decide what happens. The most insulting thing was when he sent that phone and said he would talk when I was ready to. So give her all the space in the world. This is not over.”

“Sucks,” said Peter.

“Of course it does. Your girlfriend left you while screaming at a party,” said Matt. 

“Did Phillip wake up?” asked Peter.

“Nah, he can sleep through anything,” Tony assured him. 

“That’s something, at least,” said Peter.

***

Peter gave her space, lots of space. Yes, he watched her on YouTube, but it’s not stalking when it’s purposefully on YouTube. She looked good but he didn’t think her smile was as bright; it might have been his imagination. 

His friends were a little weird, which was fair. But they didn’t really bring it up. He wasn’t sure what Tony had said to them but he was grateful. Sometimes he could see that Ned was dying to ask questions but Peter never gave him an opening. Ned would open his mouth and Peter would stare him down. 

He still swung everywhere. A couple of videos of him climbing and flipping from building to building hit the internet and MJ said, “One question: is it grappling hooks in your gloves?”

Peter thought about it and held out his bare hand. She took it, and keeping his hand flat, he said, “Pull away.” She tried and tried and he said, “I’m going to release it so stop pulling, I don’t want you to fall back.” He released the tension.

She looked at her hand and said, “How?” He just shrugged. “It’s like a Chinese finger trap.”

“Is that racist?” asked Peter, “is it like Indian giver?”

“No, it’s not racist, it’s the country of origin,” said MJ.

“My whole body can do it,” he said, “super useful.”

She let it drop. 

A few weeks later there was a skirmish in the hall and he and Flash, now a junior and senior respectively, broke it up. Later, Flash said, “When I used to beat you up, did you not have superpowers yet?”

“No, I had them,” said Peter.

“But I won,” said the other boy.

“I could kill you in the next two seconds, Flash. But I needed a cover and, also, you don’t murder a jerk in high school for being a jerk.”

“Sorry I was an asshole.”

With a shrug, Peter said, “You grew up.”

“How is your wrist?”

“Fine.”

“You only broke it a week ago.”

“I heal fast. Can we please stop talking about this?”

“Sorry,” said Flash. “We have gym.” 

It was seven weeks after his party when his phone rang at lunch he looked at his phone. “It’s Liz.”

“Pick up and don’t be whiny,” said Gwen.

He nodded, took a breath and answered, “Hey, Liz.”

“Peter, why did a courier just drop off an amethyst and diamond necklace?” she asked. “This doesn’t change anything.”

He felt himself flush with horror. “No, Liz, I ordered that necklace six months ago and forgot to cancel it. I’m sorry. I arranged for it to be delivered today. It’s your anniversary gift. I’m not trying to, like, buy you. It’s our anniversary and, I swear, I forgot to cancel it. I didn’t mean to give you a creepy gift.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“It’s your birthstone and I know you like purple,” he said. “The diamonds made it extra sparkly.” 

“It’s beautiful,” she sighed. “I can’t keep it.”

Very aware of his friends he said, “When you gave me my watch you promised not to freak out about your anniversary gift.”

“It’s not our anniversary, Peter,” she said softly.

“I know, I know. I still want you to have it. If you don’t want it, you can return it, and get something else that you like, there’s a gift receipt.”

“It’s beautiful,” she took a long breath and then said, “It’s not our anniversary. But, do you want to get coffee at like, three fifteen?”

“Yeah, yeah, that would be good. Um, the Starbucks by campus?”

“Can get here by then?”

“Well, I’d say that I could skateboard it but… that is a lie. I can be there by then.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye, Peter.”

“Bye, I lo-” he cut himself off, “I’ll see you.”

“Yeah,” she agreed and hung up.

He dropped his head on the table. MJ patted him on the top of his head, “Almost a good save.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. Ned stroked his back, not teasingly like MJ. “I forgot to cancel her anniversary present. So a seven hundred dollar necklace was just dropped off at her door.”

“Seven hundred dollars? Where did you get seven hundred dollars?” asked Flash.

“YouTube money,” Peter said.

“You always have more YouTube money than me,” said Ned. “Do you save it?”

“No, I have two channels. Ours and OutsiderView.”

“You’re the guy who posted all the really awesome Spider-Man videos back when he was active?” asked Ned.

Peter nodded, “Is that ethical?” asked Gwen.

Peter shrugged, “It was profitable. The views have gone down but they never stop. Every once in a while I put up a new one when I learn a new flip. The superheroes all have lines of merch and action figures and clothes… I have YouTube. We’re getting coffee. I don’t know if we’re talking or if it’s a relationship postmortem.”

“Just breathe and don’t be creepy,” advised Gwen. 

“Don’t be creepy,” repeated Peter.

“Don’t look desperate,” said Flash.

“I am desperate,” said Peter.

“Try to look less desperate,” advised Flash.

Later in the afternoon, with his friends’ advice in his mind, he swung up to Harlem and did a quick change two blocks from campus. He beat her to Starbucks and went to the counter, ordering their normal drinks. He was glad Liz arrived just as he was being handed their drinks because it saved him from having to wonder if they were going to hug. He handed hers over and said, “Hey, so, do you want to sit down?”

She looked around the busy shop and said, “Let’s go to the park? It’s a little more private.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “Absolutely, if that works for you.”

She rolled her lips, the way she did when she was nervous. Peter didn’t like making her nervous. Outside their hands bumped and he pulled back fast.

“Please stop being weird,” she said.

“Sorry, Gwen said don’t be creepy, Flash said don’t be desperate, MJ said don’t be pathetic and Ned said to not be myself — because no one likes that.”

Liz laughed, “I love Peter Parker; he’s my favorite.”

“That necklace looks beautiful on you.”

“I looked it up online. You really shouldn’t have.”

“It’s YouTube money and I knew you would like it.”

“It’s the most gorgeous necklace I’ve ever seen in person.”

“I’m glad you like it.” They hit the park and Liz kept walking a little ways to a more secluded bench. 

She sat down and said, “I’m still trying to work through it. I’ve been trying to work through it since the party.” He nodded. “You never told me.” he nodded again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t like to talk about the sad parts of my life, Liz, I talk science and happiness.”

“Peter, you are a superhero.”

“For one day I was a superhero, the rest of the time I was a street hero and I didn’t like it.”

“You’re Spider-Man.”

“No, I retired. There is no Spider-Man.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t talk about the sad parts, Liz.”

“So talk to me now. I want everything sad: I want everything. I need to know the sad parts.”

“When I was five my parents were murdered by Norman Osborn. When I was eleven was molested by my babysitter and he went to prison. When I was fourteen I got bitten by a radioactive spider and it hurt and all sorts weird stuff happened to my body. While sulking and breaking curfew I didn’t stop a bodega robbery because I had superpowers but I wasn’t a hero. And Uncle Ben, who was looking for me, saw and tried to stop the robber and he bled out in my arms. And then I was a street hero and I was scared every minute of it. I was scared and in pain, physically, most of the time. Until Daredevil took me in hand, I kept breaking my fingers because I didn’t know how to throw a punch. They would start to heal in a few hours and be mostly okay by the afternoon and then I went back out and re-broke them every night. I love swinging, I love the acrobatics, but I hated being a hero. I hated hiding, I hated sneaking around, I hated the violence. And the Tony found me, and took me to Germany, and Captain America beat me up because I held back and he didn’t. And when I told Tony how miserable and scared I was, he found me a replacement and a therapist and I quit, and I grieved, and I healed and then I asked you to homecoming. It was seven rough months. 

“When I talk about the past I say they died, I don’t talk about the paths to their deaths — two murders and a manslaughter. The only time I ever talked about Skip is when I was Spider-Man dealing with a scared, hurt kid who was in that position. I told him it could happen to anyone — even Spider-Man — and that he had to tell a grownup. I didn’t make any statements during the #metoo movement because I don’t feel that that would be good for me. I don’t talk about the sad parts I keep those things private. I’m not ashamed of my past but I feel that, for me, it’s healthier to walk away. I talked to a therapist weekly for over a year and I’m done talking about it. 

“I was fully out of the hero biz and well into therapy when I asked you out. When the Vulture opened your front door, I was terrified. I had no idea your dad was Adrian Toomes when I asked you to the dance. But he was a good a dad. He didn’t know who I was, he gave a very standard shovel speech. He was a great dad to you. I sent Tony one panicked text and I moved on with the night and we danced and it was awesome. I had no idea what was coming. Tony had no idea what your dad was planning. He said, afterward that, if he had known your dad was planning on doing, he would have delayed his shipment a day. I was out of the game when we started dating. I’m not Spider-Man. Spider-Man is dead and buried. I’ve only ever been me with you. Your dad is a good dad and I have always encouraged you to see him. Yes, he has attempted to put his fist through Tony, Vision, and Daredevil’s faces but he’s still a good dad. I didn’t ever fight him. I had no role in his downfall. I was just Peter Parker so why would I tell you about the unhappy times when I was always happy with you? I am a happy-go-lucky optimist at my core. I put the past behind me and Spider-Man is no more relevant to me than my murdered parents or my pervert babysitter. It’s all over. I was just an enhanced human with an awesome girlfriend. I should have told you about the superpowers but I couldn’t think of a way to tell you without telling you the rest and I really liked being your LEGO loving scientist boyfriend. That’s who I am, the rest of it is just the details that make up my past. I’ve never faked who I am with you; I just didn’t tell you about my superpowers. I should have told you about my powers because they aren’t my past; they’re a part of me that’s awesome. I was this skateboarding loving kid who fell off it every single time I tried a stunt. Now, I can do a standing backflip without even thinking about it. I watched the floor routines from the men’s gymnastics and instantly did them. Their routines are super easy. And I wasn’t lying about skateboarding: I do still love it, but I mainly do it in the suburbs where I can’t swing and I never fall off.”

She thought about it, sitting silently for over two minutes. Peter didn’t push, just let her be. Peter thought she was deciding whether or not she could date him when he had the caveat of not speaking about these things. Maybe it would be a deal breaker for her because of her own inquisitive open nature. Then she nodded, “Okay, okay, you don’t talk about your sad parts… if I take you back… will you take me swinging?” 

“I’ve always wanted to swing with you. Yes, one hundred percent, yes. I’ve always wanted to share the good bits.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. 

“Okay?” he repeated.

“Okay, we’re going swinging.” He smiled and she said, “If you do ever want to talk to me, I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.”

He pulled her into his lap. “So, is this still our anniversary or do we start over? I have no idea how fights work.”

“Thank you for my beautiful necklace, Peter.” She sounded tired and not as happy as he would have wanted her to be. “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary, Liz. I’m sorry, I love you.”

“I forgive you and I love you, Peter.”

“Terrible party,” said Peter.

“So does Jessica generally have a drinking problem?” She rested her head on his shoulder, the way she always did, even before he was taller than her and she had had to slouch to do it.

“Yeah, she stayed sober while she was pregnant but she’s always been a mean drunk. She wrote me and May separate formal apology letters. She’s a good person when she’s sober.”

“Wow,” she said. 

“Yeah, I’m going to text Trish, she’s feeling really, really guilty and her name can get a reservation anywhere. What are you in the mood for?”

“Save the reservation. Let’s get Greek at the place on my corner. Did the other superheroes know, was she right?”

He stroked her hair, “It turned out to be about half of them knew and had had the decency not to question me or Tony. I don’t think anyone had really spoken about it, just accepted that it was an open secret. But Foggy and Karen and a lot of the others had no idea.”

“Daredevil taught you how to punch?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“And you box at Matt’s gym?”

“Yes.”

“And Jessica made that weird dig about your being friends.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s an open secret too. Matt never acknowledges it, they never call him out when he walks around without his cane. And Jess was only saying it because only Karen didn’t know the truth. So what Jessica was really doing was being mean to him for not telling his girlfriend. Karen called him out on it later; they may be broken up; Matt’s not sure. The thing is, the fewer people who know, the fewer people can talk, the safer your friends are. The one upside of your dad being the Vulture, in my opinion, was that if anyone found out about me and came after my loved ones you would be safe. The majority of bad guys who hate me work for, like or are afraid of your dad. Aunt May and Ned would be in danger but you would still be safe. It was a small comfort.”

She nodded slowly. “Text May and tell her you’re not going to be home. You can lie and say you’re staying at Tony’s if you like or you could say you’re finally losing your v card.”

“Do I still have a v card?” asked Peter. “I thought we got rid of that ages ago.”

“You have one. It’s stained, creased and hole-punched, but it’s still in your wallet. It won’t be in the morning.” 

“Do you want to go to the Greek place because it’s easy or because you like it? I can swing us anywhere in the city in slightly more than a half hour.”

“Noodle House?”

“That’s just under eight miles away. It’s eighteen minutes, max.”

“That’s what I want.”

“We went there on our second actual date.”

“Actual date?” she repeated.

“We had hung out, like alone as a couple, four times between the dance and that dinner.”

She smiled, “I have to study, you must have homework, do you want to go to my place, do work, watch something on Netflix and go to dinner?”

“Are we talking Netflix or Netflix and chill?”

“Netflix and cuddle,” she replied.

“That’s my favorite type of Netflix,” said Peter. 

She stood and offered him her hand, “Text May and walk.”

He accepted her hand saying, “I didn’t know what to when I couldn’t hold your hand earlier.”

“I noticed,” she smiled, “I didn’t like our first fight. Girls in movies always seem to at least enjoy the drama but it just made me tired and sad and I ate a lot. I’ve definitely gained weight.”

“Well, I can’t tell, but I know that your good weight is about how you feel not about how others, especially men, feel. I think you look awesome, as always, and you’re beautiful and if you want to be on a diet or whatever, cool, but you should only do that for you.” 

“Shut up, I already forgave you, you perfect man.”

“Sorry my perfectness is offensive to you,” He said jokingly. He texted May as they walked: Liz & I r back 2gether, we’re studying, going 2 dinner, watching Netflix & I’m gonna to crash at her & Seymour’s.”

The text back read, “I’m very pleased you’re back together! That’s great, honey. But please don’t rush into anything. You really want to be sure, first times only happen once. And please remember all of our conversations about consent and communication and being sure and safe.” 

He held out his phone to Liz and she smiled and spoke as she typed, “May, it’s Liz, I just want to assure you no one in this relationship will be coerced or knocked up. Not tonight and not ever. This could all end in cuddling.”

Peter laughed and accepted his phone back. “I missed you so badly. I watched YouTube so I know some of what you were up too but how is your research? You got your grant and we didn’t get to celebrate it right.” 

They talked about their work and it finally felt normal. As she got passionate about her research they both relaxed. They did their homework together, talking and laughing in the living room of the apartment she shared with Seymour. Seymour came in and sighed. “Is the fight over? Please, can it be over?”

“Fight’s over,” agreed Liz. 

“Thank God, the stress has been killing everyone,” he pulled out his phone. “You guys didn’t text. You should have texted. This impacts a lot of people: I’m sending a mass text.” Peter just laughed. “Not funny, everyone one is waiting for this.” Then he looked up from the phone, “Can we just discuss that necklace? That is serious bank.”

“Well, it was a serious anniversary,” said Peter.

“Two years isn’t that serious,” said Seymour.

“Remind me again how long your longest relationship was?” asked Peter.

“Mean, no overruled: I’m breaking you up.”

“Not up to you,” said Liz. “And you sure as hell can’t make that choice before Peter takes me swinging.”

“That seems dangerous; I don’t know if any daughter of mine should do that,” said Seymour, in a high-pitched matronly voice that made them all laugh.

“Seymour, for the last time: you’re not my mother."

“You need one young lady,” he replied. 

“I have a mom,” Liz said.

“Yes, but she’s in Oregon. I’m your mom on the ground.”

“You’re not my mom.”

“But, seriously, what if you slip? Peter can’t swing and focus on you all at once.”

Peter smiled, “Put your hand on my shoulder, Seymour.” Seymour did as told and Peter let his power do its thing. “Take your hand off.” He tried but, of course, neither his hand nor Peter’s shirt moved. “As far as I can figure it out, I seem to be able to control gravity for a pocket around my body. It was super useful to keep my mask on when bad guys wanted to pull it off. It’s how I stick to walls. It’s weird. At first, I thought it was little hairs on my skin, like a spider, but it’s not because I can do it all over my body through thick clothes. It’s one of the powers I just can’t explain.”

“Huh,” said Seymour. He was still tugging at his hand and said, “Can you stop it now?”

“Stop tugging; if I let go and you’re still fighting you will fall.” Seymour relaxed and Peter released him saying, “Your daughter is in good hands, Mrs. Allan.”

“At least someone respects my authority,” said Seymour with a huff. “Thank you, Mr. Parker.”

***

He took Liz swinging for the first time that night. She loved it, which was a relief because Peter wanted to share it with her. They went to Chinatown for dinner and Little Italy for dessert. He swung them up to Hell’s Kitchen and landed on Matt’s roof. “I just want a change of clothes for the morning,” he explained. He opened the roof access door and as he walked down the stairs he called, “Matt, Liz is with me are you decent?”

“Define decent,” Matt called back. 

“Is it cool if we come in?”

“Um… Have you talked about everything from the party?”

“She knows, Matt, sorry.”

“You can come in,” said Matt. 

Peter took the last two steps into the room and saw the state of his friend, “Wow, Matt.” The man was still half in costume and was covered in wounds. “Are you planning on stitching all that yourself?”

“Claire is coming to do my back,” Matt shrugged and then hissed at the movement. "I'm just catching my breath for a minute before getting my kit."

“Matt, who did this?”

“Bullseye,” said Matt. “Out of prison, and back on form.”

“Sit before you fall,” said Liz. 

“I’m getting the first aid kit,” said Peter.

“So you kids are good?” asked Matt.

Peter heard Liz respond as he went into the bathroom, “We’re good. It’s our anniversary. Peter took me swinging and we finally got everything out in the air… I’m sorry Jessica outed you.”

“Yeah, unfortunately, Karen’s not as forgiving as you… we haven’t been together as long and I’m not retired nor do I intend to retire.” Peter came back and Matt said, “It’s your anniversary. Claire will be here in ten minutes. You don’t have to do this.”

“Matt, don’t be silly,” said Liz. She went to get him a glass of water. 

He was facing away from her but said, “Oh, not the glass, please, my hands are shaky: go for the plastic.”

“How could you tell that?”

“Your nail touched the glass: different vibration,” said Matt. She poured him water as Peter started cleaning up and Steri-stripping his wounds.

“I am not great at sutures so I’m starting with the smaller ones to save Claire time.”

“Who is Claire?” asked Liz.

“We call her the Night Nurse. She’s a really nice nurse who is willing to patch us up when it’s a bit too much for us to deal with. She never saw my face so she doesn’t know I’m me.” explained Peter. “Matt was sort of dating her but it fell apart.”

“Maybe let’s not talk about that,” said Matt. 

“Sorry,” said Peter.

Liz handed the water to Matt and said, “Which painkiller do you want?”

“Shake the bottles for me and I’ll tell you.”

“Are you serious?” asked Liz. 

She shook them and the fourth bottle made Matt say, “That’s them. Two please.”

“The label looks like Russian,” said Liz.

“Matt, what have I told you about the drugs off those Russian sites?” said Peter.

“That the prices are great but you have to get them chemically tested once they arrive to make sure that they’re not counterfeit and filled with poison,” said Matt. “Hank tested these.” 

Glancing at the bottle Peter said, “Those ones are good for people with higher pain receptors.”

“Jessica turned me on to them,” said Matt.

“Spider-Man was the one who told her.”

“Thanks,” said Matt as he swallowed them.

The door opened and Claire called, “Matt, I’m here. Please don’t be dead.” Then she walked in and her eyes went wider, “Hi.”

“Hi, you must be Claire, I’m Peter. This is my girlfriend Liz. We just came by and started in on Matt’s boo-boos.”

“Did you come by to deal with his injuries or?” she left the question hanging. 

“No, I box at Matt’s dad’s old gym and he had some of my clothes here and I need a change.” Peter placed his last Steri-strip. “I think I did all the little ones but I can’t do stitches.”

“Thanks, Peter,” she said as he moved out of the way. 

He went into the bedroom and quickly grabbed his stuff coming out he said, “Okay, we’re good.” He took Liz’s hand and said, “It was nice meeting you, Claire, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” 

He started to head toward the door and Claire said, “That’s the roof. Planning on taking the fire escape?”

“Oh, right,” said Peter.

Matt laughed, “She’s messing with you, Peter. Her pulse is up and her skin is warm: she’s messing with you.”

“Claire, that’s not nice,” said Peter.

“Y’know I heard the Spider-Man voice in the videos but when someone is in pain it’s really hard to keep the badass act up. You screamed and breathed through it in your real voice. I hated working on you, hated it. Pain makes us all young but I thought you were about twelve under the mask. I felt like I was working on a child of abuse and sending you back out there.”

“I was fourteen and then fifteen for, like, three weeks,” said Peter. 

“Fourteen doesn’t actually make me feel better,” said Claire. 

“Well, I retired so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.” 

“It was really nice to see you without your mask,” she said.

“It’s good to see you too, Claire. Thanks for all your help back in the day; you were amazing.”

“No more punctured lungs,” she ordered, “Twice in five months was enough.”

“You punctured your lungs?” asked Liz.

“Thank you, Claire,” said Peter. “So helpful. Liz, it was over two years ago. I healed and I don’t get beat on by badies anymore. I’m fine, honey.”

“I need you to be safe, Peter, and not do silly things.”

“Liz, honey, nowadays, the most dangerous thing I do is kickass aerial moves and then realize I’m slightly further from the next building that I’m aiming for. I’ve landed pretty hard; I broke, like, six watch faces. But not anymore: the beautiful watch you gave me can withstand a fall. And those falls, with my strength and healing, are honestly like falling off a skateboard. I’m happy and safe. I promise. Spider-Man is so over. Want to swing home?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” agreed Liz. “It is really fun.”

“Right? Superpowers are fun,” said Peter. “Night, guys; feel better, Matt. Call Wade: he’d love to cover for you.”

Matt laughed, “Deadpool is not welcome in my neighborhood.”

“He’s very good when he’s hoping to impress a recognized hero,” said Peter. “Keep it in mind.” He slipped his arm around Liz’s waist and she put her hand in his back pocket.

“I would pay to see Wade behave himself,” said Matt.

“Matt, you would pay to see anything,” said Peter. 

Matt started laughing and then said, “Owww, don’t make me laugh.”

“It was nice to meet you,” said Liz. “We’re going to go because Peter has a million blind jokes and Matt thinks they are hilarious. So, good night.”

“Happy anniversary, you two,” said Matt.

“Thanks, Matt,” said Peter before they headed up to the roof.

There he pulled on his mask as Liz put on the scarf she had been wearing as a disguise. “Can you carry me bridal style?”

“I can pick you up bridal style and then keep you there without my hands. I kind of need my hands to get us home.”

“That works. I want to feel like a princess.”

“You’re still the homecoming queen,” he reminded her as he lifted her, light as a feather into his arms. “Comfy?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, putting her arms around his neck. He let go of her, keeping her where she was, “So cool. Take us home.”

He took a running leap off the building and swan-dived off the roof before shooting webbing at the next building. It only took six minutes to get back to her apartment. He dropped them down two buildings away and said, “No one was looking but it’s still safer to walk into the building… and your roof access sucks.” 

She chuckled, “Swinging is really fun.”

“I’m so glad I get to share it with you,” he put his arms around her and let her go slowly. He placed her on her feet and said, “Can we do it again sometime?”

“Oh, we’re never taking the subway ever again,” she said, making him laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment or leave kudos if you liked it. I hope you did!
> 
> Edit note: I had Trish as Patsy when I first posted this. What am I, Kilgrave?


End file.
